


Down the Rabbit-Hole

by LatteGrey



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Challenge 2, Tumblr: letswritesherlock, alice!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:19:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LatteGrey/pseuds/LatteGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who are YOU?", the low toned voice asked before John could even comprehend the whole figure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down the Rabbit-Hole

               Gunshots could be heard from miles away. He was racing through the mined fields, bringing injured soldiers back to the base, helping them between gunfire. His heart was wild, his whole body aching and soaked by sweat and other's men blood.  A loud noise exploded right next to his ear.

               He wasn't aware of what was happening, and when he did, it was too late. He fell to the ground with a deaf noise, his head hitting hard on the rocks, and luckily he became unconscious before the pain kicked in.

               He got shot.

               --

               The fresh air. He could feel the breeze on his hair, the smell of the recently cut grass. His hearing was coming back to him in a crescendo, and the sound of birds and water running made him open his eyes to look around. It was a garden. Not an ordinary garden, but the one that he used  to play as a child. He looked down at himself, his army uniform still on, but clean and soft, without any blood spot on it.

               Up to his feet, he started to walk around. John Watson, he remembered. That's his name. He's an army doctor, a good one. And what is that?

               He went down to his knees, observing carefully. It was a rabbit hole. John wasn't a kid anymore, but something about that hole was different. It was like some magnetic field, pulling John. He put only his head inside, and the hole seemed to have no end. The ground beneath him was soft, and he was crawling inside the hole without noticing it. Suddenly, he was falling again.

               All sort of thing passed flying by his side. Teapots, ashtrays, apples, shoes, a chair, a wardrobe, two cats, and he stopped paying attention to all those stuff. He was falling for a long time now, and he wondered if he was falling slowly or if the well was very, very deep.

               The fall didn't seemed to an end at all! He saw an armchair coming and sat on it, watching it all trembles. Down the Rabbit-hole he went.  After a minute or two, John could see the earth approaches,  but he didn't thought for a second that he could die - or even get hurt. He just jumped out of the chair and divided further, his body landing on a titled floor, black and white.

               Looking to the ceiling, the hole he came down wasn't there anymore. And, inside the room was only a table with two thing at the top of it - a tiny little key and a bottle - and a door. Not quite a door, but a door that probably only dolls could use. It was a rather small door.

               John shrugged, wondering what he was supposed to do now. He knew he was ought to do something, because that's what videogames taught him. He grabbed the glass bottle that was by the side of the tiny key, examining it. "Drink me", said the note attached to the bottle, and so he did.

               What a funny taste, he thought. It taste like cranberry!

               And then, he was shrinking.  And he wasn't even that tall to begin with. He shrank until he was no taller than 6 inches at all! Oh, crap, he was too small. He winced to the door, and remembered that the key was on the top of that now huge table. He didn't gave much thought before grabbing one leg of the table and began to climb it. Luckily he was on the army for long enough, so this wasn't quite a challenge for him at all.

               He climbed, up, up and up he went. By the top of the table, he grabbed the key, that once was too small, and know was kind of big. Tucking the key inside his trousers - it didn't fit his pockets- , he looked down to the ground. It was very high up there. Really high, and he could not jump. So, climb down he did. He thanked whoever carved the table with floral motives on its legs, so all the climbing was much easier.

               Once his foot touched the ground, he lied on the ground for a bit. The cold stone was soothing, and he was not freaking out. Definitely he was not freaking out. It was just a dream and he would wake up soon.

               --

               He didn't wake up. He was still there. So he get up and opened the bloody door. Giving you a short explanation, John was in fact freaking out, and his patience was running really short. Once he took a look of what was on the other side of the door he groaned. He pinched himself and groaned louder, then. It was another freaking garden, bollocks!

               Okay, John, let's go. He forced himself to take a step, and then another one and another one. He started to walk, and then he was jogging, and then he was running. So he came back to jogging, because he was getting tired. After a few minutes, he came back to walk.

               Right before having to force himself to take a step, the mushroom came upon his sight.

               Well, it wasn't the mushroom that caught his attention.  He had already seen plenty of others mushrooms, and this one in particular doesn't have a single thing to make it special. The one thing that caught John's attention was in fact the person sitting at the top of the said mushroom.

               "Who are YOU?", the low toned voice asked before John could even comprehend the whole figure.

               "How do you mean?", he stubbed, looking at the man wrapped on a blue sheet like a caterpillar, smoking a pipe and wearing nothing less than a deerstalker at the top of his head.

               "I know where you came from", he yawned, "A battlefield, you got shot. I know how old you are and everything about your family and friends back at England. I just don't know who you are".

               "Well, how could you know all of this stuff and not know who I am?", he chuckled, definitely not on the mood for being teased by a cheap "Alice's Adventure in Wonderland" imitation.

               The figure came down the mushroom without much trouble,  given how tall he was. He had eyes that looked like supernovas exploding, but that didn't make up for having such a prick attitude.

               "Elementary, Captain", he smirked, "I could deduce it quickly, but I didn't have to. I'm inside your head, and these kind of information is just floating around here. But you don't know who you ARE, and I want to know it". He was only a step away from John now, and John's throat went dry. The caterpillar-like-man's hand reached out and touched John's left shoulder, "It's time to wake up, now".

               --

               His eyes opened slowly, his vision focusing slowly on a nurse's surprised face. He was still alive. Touching his left shoulder, the white bandages stained by his blood and medication. It ached, but the pain was a good sign. Dead people don't feel pain. Nevertheless, he knew what being there meant. He was going to come back home.  


End file.
